


Third Wheel

by RishiDiams



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6358234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RishiDiams/pseuds/RishiDiams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No way was Rose Tyler going to be <i>that</i> friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Wheel

"You have to come with me, Rose. What if the guy's a total creep?"

"And what if he's great and I'm stuck being a third wheel?"

"Then you can leave. Please. Best case scenario you're home in an hour, worst case you and I duck out a back door and I owe you chips for being such a good friend."

Rose sighed and Shareen's expression turned from pleading to triumphant.

"I don't know why I keep letting you talk me into stuff like this."

Shareen's smile was saccharine sweet. "Because you love me."

Five outfit changes for Shareen and two for Rose ("You're not wearing that, are you?") later, Rose allowed herself to be dragged down to the pub where Shareen had agreed to meet her blind date. It wasn't bad as far as pubs went, well-lit and clean, and, since it was four o'clock on a Saturday when there wasn't a match on, not overly crowded. A quick glance around found no blokes sitting alone and watching them expectantly, so Shareen ordered a pint and they slid into a booth to wait.

"I'll move to the bar when he gets here," Rose said, "then you can signal me if you need a rescue."

"Sounds good, babe. Oh, I should run to the loo before he gets here."

Before Rose could even protest, Shareen jumped up again and hurried down a hallway that Rose assumed led to the loos. She sighed and picked up Shareen's beer and took a long draught as payment for being left alone.

A shadow fell over the table. "Hi."

Rose looked up, a well-practiced polite-but-firm rejection already on the tip of her tongue, but the words died when she saw the bloke's face. He was a few years older, the laugh lines around his eyes gave that away immediately, but she was willing to forgive five or six years because he was gorgeous, tall and thin with a head of the thickest hair she'd ever seen and eyes the same shade of cinnamon brown. As she watched, the area around a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose turned pink and Rose realized she was staring.

Her own cheeks heated. "Sorry. I'm not usually so rude. Hi."

His incredibly soft looking lips curled into a kind smile. "'S'alright. Mind if I sit?"

"Please."

"I don't usually do this," he admitted, the leather of the bench seat creaking as he slipped into the booth opposite her.

"Me either," she replied with a giddy giggle.

His expression warmed as he studied her face. "Well, I'm glad you decided to."

A beat of comfortable silence passed before Rose was hauled back into reality by Shareen's teasing voice over her shoulder. "I leave you alone for one minute..."

"Shareen!" she gasped in horror, and then her stomach sank to her toes when the bloke mirrored her reaction.

He stood up so quickly he might have phased through the table and stuck his hand out to Shareen. "John Smith. I think there's been a little bit of a mix-up."

Rose stood, too, plastered a smile on her face, told Shareen she'd be at the bar, and nodded a goodbye to John. She didn't even realize she still had Shareen's beer in her hand until she sat down on a barstool and automatically raised it to her lips.

Two minutes, five tops, of completely meaningless conversation, she told herself in annoyance every time Shareen's laughter rang throughout the pub, certainly not long enough to justify the answering spike of jealousy she felt to accompany each one. Thirty minutes in, she couldn't take it anymore. Obviously John wasn't a creep and Rose's services as wingman/escape partner were not needed. If only she could catch Shareen's attention long enough to confirm that, she could be out the door and on a bus home. But Shareen's focus was on John, and Rose had seen that kind of singlemindedness on her friend's face before.

After another ten minutes of staring at Shareen, chanting Look at me under her breath, Rose pulled out her mobile and sent three question marks through the ether and across the room. When that went unanswered, she sent another message: Leaving you with Mr. Wonderful. Text me when you get home.

It was Shareen, so even though their blind date had started during the relatively safe mid-afternoon, Rose didn't expect to hear from her friend until evening at the earliest, but she fell asleep later that night not overly concerned that her phone was still silent. The next morning revealed a message received at 2:19 a.m.: OMG Rose! Best first date ever!

As weeks stretched into months, John became a fixture at Shareen's side. Rose learned that he was exactly five years older and worked as a teacher in the science department of the same university she attended while he was finishing up his doctoral degree, something that she refused to put too much thought into because her art classes tended to keep her away from the science building. He seemed to be the opposite of Shareen's boisterous nature, somewhat shy in large groups yet utterly captivating when he rambled on about astronomy or history or physics or any other subject that happened to interest him for the moment. And yes, she still found him utterly gorgeous, especially when he frequently showed up at gatherings with his hair tussled in such a way that made her gut clench with longing.

A common joke among their friends became that he'd initially mistaken Rose for Shareen, because the two girls could not be more dissimilar, one fair where the other was dark, one studious while the other preferred to party. Rose smiled every time the others laughed and then changed the subject as soon as she could without making it too obvious. It wasn't that she begrudged her friend happiness - on the contrary, John doted on Shareen, which Rose felt she deserved after a string of really bad boyfriends - but, she admitted to herself, her jealousy had gotten out of hand. Convincing herself that it was just a stupid crush proved impossible as it became harder and harder to ignore John's arm around Shareen's waist, their clasped hands swinging between them as they walked, and - worst of all - the frequent kisses. Rose thanked every deity she could name that, unlike Shareen, John didn't seem inclined to be over-amorous in public and typically stopped Shareen before she could succeed in making everyone around them uncomfortable.

By the time the end of the semester rolled around, Rose, swamped with finals, was able to stay away as much as she wanted, and Shareen, not burdened with the problems of a uni student and still in the honeymoon phase of her relationship with John, never seemed suspicious that there might be more to it. And then, the week before graduation, a letter arrived from the National Museum in Cardiff. Apparently they had an opening for a restorer and her art teacher had recommended her. It was a huge opportunity and included concessions for her to get her master's. Before she would have never considered it, but it had been an unbearable six months; things had gotten so bad it was a constant fear that she'd tug her best friend's beanpole of a boyfriend down by the knot of his tie and snog him senseless.

So, she accepted.

It was the right thing to do.

Right?

Of course it was, she told herself as she hid the letter away so no one would accidentally stumble upon it. Shareen was happy, and some distance would do wonders for Rose's crush. Because no way was she going to be _that_ friend.

Three days after graduation, Rose made the announcement to her friends that she was moving, effective immediately. She accepted the moans and groans that she was not allowing them to give her a proper send off with a smile and hugged everyone - even John - goodbye.

* * *

Summer in Cardiff flew by. Her job at the museum was fascinating and challenging, and she loved the people she worked with. Then, before she knew it, she was beginning a new adventure, her first semester as a graduate student. Everything was going great until she returned to work one day after lunch to see a very familiar beanpole standing on the steps of the museum.

"John?"

He whirled around, schooling an expression of joy she was not going to over-think into something more appropriate for a run-in with his girlfriend's best friend. "Rose Tyler!" he exclaimed, stepping forward with his arms outstretched for a hug. They'd only hugged once before, and she still hadn't quite gotten his scent and the feeling of him pressed against her out of her system. He pouted when she offered her hand instead, but he took it, his large, warm hand enveloping hers far too briefly.

Two questions battled to be the first, with "Where's Shareen?" winning out.

"London still. We broke... up, actually... Bugger," he added under his breath as he looked away, and Rose's heart started to race. Sure, she lived a few hours away, but social media being what it was she would have expected to hear such big news. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his messy hair as he met her eyes again and sheepishly admitted, "I didn't want to lead with that."

The second question begged to be asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Can we maybe get a coffee? No - tea! You don't like coffee."

"John --"

"Please?"

"I'd love to, but --" she started, stopping immediately when his face crumpled.

"Of course. I waited too long." He sniffed and straightened his shoulders. "I understand. Sorry for bothering you. I'll just --"

"John, wait," she said, stepping closer and putting her hand on his arm before he could flee. "I'd love to. Full stop. After work." She nodded at the building behind him.

Rose, predictably, had heard a lot of flower analogies in her lifetime, but 'blossoming' was the perfect description for how John's expression opened up. "Really?"

"Really. The museum closes at 4:45. I happen to know there's a little café right over there that would be perfect."

He looked down the street to where she was pointing. "4:45?"

"Give me a few minutes after we close to clean up, but yeah, around there."

"Great. Wonderful. Molto bene." His voice dropped on the last one as he seemed to take note of exactly how close they stood to one another. Without a word of warning, he dipped his head down and brushed his lips across her cheek, dashing off before she could even gasp her surprise with a, "Five o'clock, Rose Tyler, and not a moment later!"

Somehow she managed to make it through the remaining four hours of work without irrevocably damaging the painting she was supposed to be restoring. Right on time she put away her paint and brushes and washed up, arriving at the café a few minutes before 5 o'clock to see John fidgeting at a table with two steaming mugs on it. After surreptitiously wiping her suddenly sweaty palms on her skirt, she opened the door and nodded to the barista as she walked passed the counter.

Following a moment of the most awkward will they/won't they shuffle ever, John placed another kiss on her cheek then circled around her to pull out her chair. "I hope you don't mind that I ordered for you."

"It's fine."

When she was seated comfortably he moved to the other chair and sat down. "I should probably start at the beginning, shouldn't I?"

"Or you could start with when you and Shareen broke up."

"Ah, yes. That would be a little over two months ago now."

"That long?"

"Yeah. It became obvious to me over the summer that I wasn't staying in the relationship for the right reasons, so it kind of came to a natural conclusion. Shareen's great, but she's just not what I'm looking for."

"What are you looking for?"

She could see the tops of his cheeks turn pink as he looked down at his untouched mug. To calm her own nervousness, Rose picked up her mug and took a cautious sip.

"Oh!"

John's eyes shot back up to hers. "What's wrong? Too hot?"

"No, it's perfect. How did you --"

"I paid attention." His blush deepened as he reached across the table and took her hand. Little shocks of electricity shot up her arm as he brushed the pads of his fingers over every inch of her skin all the way down to her wrist. "When you left it was like the sun had disappeared behind the clouds."

"I had to leave." She threaded her fingers between his and smiled a gentle smile. "There was this guy I was falling for. If I'd stayed I would have done something unforgivable."

"And now? If that guy told you that he'd fallen -- wait, I am the guy, right? I mean, because otherwise this could be really emb--"

Rose lifted herself out of her seat and leaned across the table. John whimpered when she pressed her lips to his and she felt his free hand come up to hover at the side of her face. When she broke the kiss she rested her cheek on his palm. "Let's do away with any thoughts that you're not exactly that guy kind of snappish, ok--"

John vaulted out of his seat and captured her lips in a kiss that started off needy and hungry but morphed quickly into slow promise.

"I don't want to rush into this," she said as she pulled away. "I need to talk to Shareen before it goes any further. And then you and I need to talk about the whole long distance thing."

"I'm guest lecturing at the university. I'm in Cardiff for the semester."

"The whole semester?"

John nodded. "With an option for next semester, too."

"You," she kissed him lightly, "stay," she kissed him again, "right," and again, "here."

She'd already pulled her mobile out of her purse before she stood up completely, and was dialing before she stepped out of the café.

"Shareen? Hey, you'll never guess who I just ran into."

To say that Shareen was unsurprised would be an understatement. It took her no time at all to wheedle out of Rose the fact that she and John wanted to make a go of it, and even less time to offer her blessing. Rose's head was spinning by the time she sat back down across from John. She picked up her tea and grimaced when she discovered that it had gone cold. Looking up, she saw John watching her expectantly. She'd wanted this for so long now that it was within her grasp she barely knew where to start.

"Take me to dinner?"

"Gladly."

When they stepped out of the café together, John pointed out that the sun had broken free of the clouds.


End file.
